GAMES

LYRIC QUIZ

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We are adrift without direction in a raging storm on a calm sea, clinging to our expectations to stem the tide of destiny.


track5
at fates hands
by
from their album


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“Tuesday morning, New York Times. You passed away, you lost your mind. We all want to play the game. We all want a taste of fame. We'd sell our souls if the price is right.”
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